


Exes and Ow, that hurts

by 700wordsAmonth



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A lot more Champ-centric than I intended this to be, Champ-friendly, Established Relationship, F/F, One Shot, POV Second Person, Prompt Fill, Protective Waverly, Protective Waverly Earp, Waverly and Nicole are already married, Waverly is everybody's boss and she should be, small injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/700wordsAmonth/pseuds/700wordsAmonth
Summary: Nicole finds a drunk Champ behind Shorty's and things don't go so smoothly.
Relationships: Champ Hardy & Nicole Haught, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp & Nicole Haught
Comments: 12
Kudos: 149





	Exes and Ow, that hurts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bexwolf1224](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexwolf1224/gifts).



You might be the Sheriff of Purgatory, Bunny Loblaw might be the mayor, and Wynonna Earp might be a demon hunter. Still, you’re pretty sure the most powerful person in Purgatory is the town sweetheart Waverly Earp. Well, Waverly Haught-Earp now.

* * *

It’s been a pretty eventful Saturday night at Shorty’s. Karaoke nights have become a town favorite, and you’re buzzed enough not to be ashamed to admit you sang a song or two.

You’re taking the trash out, giving Doc a hand so that all of you can call it a night and go back to the homestead together.

The twin trash cans sit beside the back door. It is a dark little corner, and you almost don’t see the figure leaning against the opposite wall, their body slumped.

As you pay more attention, trying to calm your racing heart from the scare, you notice a bottle of beer hanging from their hand.

“Everything alright there?” You ask, still a little wary. This is Purgatory, after all.

“Oh yea, I’m just peachy, Sheriff.”

“Champ?” You ask, recognizing his voice.

There’s a humorless chuckle.

“ _Champ,”_ he repeats, mocking. “That doesn’t sound quite right, does it?”

You don’t really know what to say. Agreeing that it had never been a good nickname seems like kicking a man who’s clearly already down.

“Everything was just fine before you came to town, you know?” He keeps talking, not bothered by your lack of response. “Then you arrived and _puff –_ everything goes to shit.”

“Come on, man. I know you had a rough few of months, but I had nothing to do with it,” you tell him, remembering how an injury from almost a year ago ended his rodeo career. And you’re not one to listen to gossip, but it is a small town, and you know his latest girlfriend – now ex-girlfriend, if you’re to believe what you’ve heard – had a very lose grasp of what monogamy meant. It all seems a bit karmic, but you keep that to yourself.

“No. _You_ ruined it!” He insists. “ _I_ was the one who was supposed to be married to her. _I_ was supposed to be the Sheriff.”

“Married to Waverly? Come on, Champ. You tried to cheat on her with her own sister. I was not the problem in your relationship.”

He shakes his head, walking a little unsteadily closer to you. “We were high school sweethearts. We were going to make it.”

“Okay, Champ,” you try to appease him. There’s no point in arguing when he’s so far down the bottle.

You reach out a hand to steady him, but he pushes your arm off him suddenly.

“Fuck off!”

“Champ.” You feel your muscles contracting, starting to lose your patience.

“I said _fuck off!”_ He shoves you against the trash can, and you feel a small rip in your left arm as you stumble onto a sharp corner.

Whatever sympathy you had for him is forgotten in the moment, and you rush to him, taking his left wrist and ready to immobilize him against the wall despite not having your handcuffs on you at the moment. But he trashes and headbutts you unexpectedly. The pain irradiating from your nose blinds you for a good few seconds, and when you can finally see clearly again he’s nowhere in sight.

“Motherfucker,” you say to the empty alley, touching your nose and feeling the tears that have been forced from your eyes in reflex. Your nose is sore, but you don’t think it’s broken.

“Haught?” You hear from the door a few feet from you.

“Yea?”

“The hell?” Wynonna asks when she sees you. You’re still a bit winded from the slowly receding pain, slightly doubled over, with both of your hands protecting your nose. “What happened?”

“Champ. Didn’t get him on a good day, I don’t think,” you try for playful.

“Champ attacked you? What the hell,” she murmurs the last part to herself.

You’re a bit shocked too. Champ has always been an idiot, yes, but he was never particularly prone to violence.

Wynonna holds the door for you, and you both start to make your way back to the saloon.

“What do you want to do? Sorry, _Jesus_ , is it broken?” Wynonna asks, trying to see your nose from under your hands, her brow furrowed in sympathy pain.

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey, what took you so long?” You hear the sugary voice of your wife from the other side of the bar.

Finally lowering your hands as the pain recedes enough for you to feel less protective of your nose, you answer her. “Just an encounter with a rowdy citizen.”

“What?” Waverly squints as the both of you come closer. “What happened?” Her voice becomes softer when she notices your probably red face and shiny eyes.

“Apparently Champ hit her,” Wynonna answers for you.

“Champ hit you?!”

“No. Not really.”

You let Waverly cradle your face, turning it to the light so she can see the damage.

“Then how come you have a bloody, swollen nose and tear tracks down your cheeks, huh?”

“Well, he did hit me, but I don’t think he meant to. Or maybe he did, I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and you have to report this to the station.”

“No, come on, Waves. It’s just swollen, I don’t need to see a doctor.”

“What if it’s broken?”

“It’s not, okay? I promise. I felt the bone, it’s sore, but not broken.”

She seems unsure but follows your lead on this.

“And Champ?”

“Yea, I’ll call the station. Intentional or not, he could use a few hours put away to think about his actions.”

* * *

Waverly cleaned the small cut in your arm when you got home the night before and iced your nose, but it still feels huge on your face, though it doesn’t hurt that much anymore.

Champ has been quiet in his cell since you came in at 8:30, and you leave him be. It doesn’t take long, though, for your wife and sister-in-law to come into the station. Waverly waves a hand at you, but walks past your office toward the holding cell, clearly on a mission.

You’re following her before you notice it, but you stop a couple feet away from the door to the room that is housing Champ for the day, Wynonna coming up to stand beside you.

“Wish I’d brought popcorn,” she whispers to you.

You smile, but you also kind of feel sorry for him. A talking-to given by the nicest person in Purgatory is a pretty sobering experience, you’ve come to learn. There’s something about disappointing the sweetest, most loved woman in town that really puts things into perspective.

“Really, Champ,” Waverly’s voice is… well, not stern, but it is as close to it as it can get – “you hit my wife?”

“Not on purpose! Well... not all of it,” he justifies, his voice higher, though he soon brings it down. “It was a tough night, I guess I took it out on her… I’m sorry.” You can’t see him, but his tone tells you he’s detached, not as sheepish as you'd expect anyone in this position to be.

“You better be! I get that you’re having a rough time, but I swear to god, Champ, you touch her again and I’ll make sure you can’t set foot in town anymore.”

You move a bit closer and can see him nodding along to Waverly’s words.

“I’m sorry about what I did when we were together.” Now he sounds sheepish. “You know, with the other girls. Being on the other end? Doesn’t feel so good.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she concedes. “But it worked out for the best for me. I’m sure it will work out for you too eventually.”

“Fingers crossed,” he says, with a smile that is not quite there.

“And I’m serious, Champ. That’s my girl,” she says, her hand falling behind her, in your direction. “You don’t touch my girl. I mean, don’t hit anyone, but especially not her.”

“Understood.” He looks over Waverly’s shoulder, finding you by the door. “Sorry, Sheriff, it won’t happen again.”

You nod at his words, but your eyes find Waverly’s, now turned to you. She comes closer, already done with him, and wraps her arms around your waist, her lips finding your neck in a chaste kiss.

“Don’t forget to keep icing it every two hours or so.”

“Will do,” you say, warm and light under her attention.

You walk to Champ’s cell once the sisters have left.

“Two more hours and you can go home, okay?”

“Yea, thanks… I- I’m really sorry about yesterday. You were right, it had nothing to do with you. None of it did.”

“I know.”

“And the nose thing, it wasn’t intentional,” he completes, grimacing as his gaze falls to just below your eyes.

“I know that too,” you say, and, after years of not really seeing each other eye to eye, it finally feels like there’s no resentment left between the two of you. “And now that you mention it, I better go ice it again, or else I will be the one on the receiving end of a stern Waverly.”

“She does keep everybody on their toes, huh?”

“That she does.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in answer to a prompt I got from bexjensen12 (shout out thank you!), but it went, like... in a really different direction. I have no control over the process.  
> The prompt was: "Champ, angry at Nicole for stealing Waverly ambushes Nicole with some of his friends and they attack her leaving her behind shorty's where wynonna finds her".  
> My only excuse is that I had no idea where to go to from a really hurt Nicole (other than the hospital), so I dialed it waaaay back down and now it's a different being altogether.  
> Sorry! I hope you can still enjoy some of it anyway :)


End file.
